


Tutorial

by irisbleufic



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Epic Fail, Epistolary, M/M, Sexting, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't be good at everything, but you can work on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tutorial

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted to LJ in November of 2011.

Please come home ASAP. Issue requiring  
your urgent attention. This is not a test.

SH

*

It's not even my lunch break yet,  
Sherlock. Also, I don't believe you.  
And can't believe you know the right  
usage of 'ASAP'. Nice try, though.

JW

*

I am perfectly up to date on urban  
technological slang. I _can_ ,  
however, believe you don't know  
the precise meaning of 'urgent'.

SH

*

What's happened? Did you blow  
a fuse in the kitchen again?  
Did Mrs. Hudson try to dissuade  
you from bringing home more of  
those deadly spores by way of bribery  
with cupcakes from that place at  
Covent Garden? You should accept.

JW

*

Copying my sign-off method now, are we?  
Imitation is, in this case, rather than  
the highest form of flattery, I suspect,  
just plain mockery. I said come _home_.

SH

*

Why should I? Are there cupcakes?

JW

*

No, you complete idiot.

SH

*

...there is a spider.

SH

*

That's too good, Sherlock. Just what  
kind of occasion do you think I ought to save  
this blackmail-worthy tidbit for? Making  
you look like an arse in front of Lestrade?

JW

*

Don't be ridiculous; I am perfectly capable  
of making _myself_ look like an arse  
in front of Lestrade (as you have so astutely  
noted on several occasions, thank you very much).

SH

*

It's a very big spider.

SH

*

Sarah thinks this is the best thing ever.

JW

*

I hate you.

SH

*

It's halfway down the wall now.

SH

*

This is rather pathetic. What room  
are you in, and how far away from  
the spider are you? At an estimate?

JW

*

Four feet, ten and a half inches.  
Which is not an 'estimate' by any  
known definition of the word.

SH

*

Sherlock, where _are_ you?

JW

*

...in your bedroom.

SH

*

Dare I ask why?

JW

*

Dare you indeed? For once, a question  
I cannot answer for you. Very good.

SH

*

STFU and answer my question.

JW

*

More mockery! You know acronyms  
are my blind spot. And there's  
still a spider making its way  
leisurely toward my person.

SH

*

Not so up on your slang after all ;)  
Where are you? You could just move  
to another room. It won't follow you.

JW

*

I refuse to move. It would defeat the  
entire purpose of being where I am.

SH

*

Which is?

JW

*

Are you referring to my purpose  
or to my location? Do be more  
specific. I'm not a mind reader.

SH

*

Funny, I kind of thought you were.  
How about you just tell me both?

JW

*

Send Sarah away, or there will be  
none of your precious cupcakes.

SH

*

She left the room ten minutes ago.  
Apparently you're boring after all.

JW

*

Are you alone?

SH

*

Yes, why? We're now ten minutes  
into my lunch break, and I'm almost  
regretting every second. My Marks &  
Sparks wrap is sitting neglected  
on my desk. Waste of perfectly good  
Thai chilli chicken with lemongrass.

JW

*

Sounds startlingly inauthentic.

SH

*

...fine. I am on your bed, as I had rather  
hoped to test whether or not my grasp of  
the concept of 'sexting' is as firm as  
I think it is. Pun entirely intended.

SH

*

You were about to send me dirty texts?

JW

*

Yes. And then along came a spider.

SH

*

Where is Sherlock Holmes, and what have  
you done with him? Maybe I ought to call  
Sarah back in and make some popcorn.

JW

*

The mockery's gone far enough, John.  
I actually thought you'd like it.

SH

*

Spider has vanished. Whereabouts unknown.

SH

*

COME HOME BEFORE I SEND MYCROFT TO KILL YOU.

SH

*

Jesus, Sherlock, sorry. I fucked this one up.  
The spider's probably under the bed by now.

JW

*

I'm no good at this; you know I favour a more...  
direct approach. But here you are, all ready  
to try something different. I'm the arse.

JW

*

Does that mean you're coming home?

SH

*

If I can, yes. In the meantime, why don't you  
try out some of your newly acquired skills?

JW

*

Don't you understand? I just did.

SH

*

You did what? Pardon me if I've misread, but  
there were no messages reading along the lines  
of 'I want to suck you off right now' or 'I accidentally  
diagnosed a flu patient with the common cold because  
I couldn't stop thinking about how fucking hot you  
looked asleep naked the other morning in my bed'.

JW

*

Do you? And did you really?

SH

*

Because you couldn't?

SH

*

You cost me more wages than any sane person  
would consider acceptable, Sherlock.

JW

*

I know. And there will be cupcakes.

SH


End file.
